


Where the Milkvetch Flower Blooms

by eternalsession



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, ok why are there so many shipping tags here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 15:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalsession/pseuds/eternalsession
Summary: An ordinary Sunday. (Fluff)





	Where the Milkvetch Flower Blooms

**Author's Note:**

> Your presence softens my pains.

The figure of the king is striking and radiant as always; her thin, blonde locks descend from her elegant head, draping her shoulders and the upper part of her back. Wearily, she rouses from her slumber. The sun’s gentle rays bleed from between the blinds, basking her in its warm radiance. Her blanket drops from her shoulders quietly, exposing her torso, draped by a shirt all too large for her small frame—borrowed from the one whom she chose. She quietly rubs her eyes, looking at the vacancy on her futon with a twinge of sadness. Just once, she would like to see his sleeping face. Without bothering to properly dress herself, she rises from the futon and slowly meanders to the kitchen, becoming more alert at the smell of food.

“Shirou, what are you cooking for breakfast this morning?”

The redhead turns to meet her gaze and offers a smile that melts her heart, turning it instantly into goop. He tells her that he’s making pancakes and makes a show by tossing the pancake into the air before catching it again with the pan. He gestures with his head that she should take a seat, food will be served shortly. The king lingers for a moment, however, hesitant to verbalize her feelings. The pancake-flipper understands her desire to help without the need for her to say anything.

“In that case, could you hand me the butter from the refrigerator?”

The king’s face lights up, pleased to be of service. Though they’ve known each other for a long time, both platonically and romantically, he’s surprised she can still be bashful about simple things like assisting with cooking or otherwise providing aid, even when unnecessary. He quietly chuckles, accepting the butter from her hand, then delicately cutting small slices to rest atop a stack of fluffy pancakes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?”

“This is fine,” the blonde warrior replies, gripping her shirt and pressing it against her nose. “It has your scent on it.”

Of course, the fledgling swordsman cannot help the rosy blush that rises to his cheeks. He scratches his cheek for a moment to regain his composure. He removes his apron and hangs it up on the rack where it usually sits, then grabs both plates of pancakes and sets them down on the kotatsu. His sword trails behind him, carrying with her a small pitcher of syrup to dress their pancakes with. Of course, her plate is a triple helping. It’s something that he finds embarrassing to vocalize to this day but seeing her smile when she eats his cooking fills him with a visceral joy. He takes his seat under the warmth of the kotatsu and Saber takes her seat directly beside him.

A breakfast like any other, yet a breakfast special all the same. They eat in silence, like always; he has nothing to say, she too engrossed in enjoying her food to spare time to speak. There’s something special about sharing a bond with someone where they can sit in silence without any awkward tension. He silently watches her eat, content that she’s enjoying herself.

“Breakfast was delicious as usual, Shirou.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Should I make some tea?”

The now-full swordswoman nods as she allows him to take her plate. “Allow me to help with the dishes.”

“Do you really think you can escape the warmth of the kotatsu that easily, Saber? Just sit right there, I’ll bring back some tea before you know it.”

Saber opens her mouth in protest; the words linger on her tongue, teetering on the edge of escaping, but… slowly, she closes her mouth, understanding he doesn’t mean to stifle her. She smiles at him, thanking him for the offer. Surely enough, before she knew it, he had assumed his place next to her under the kotatsu. They both drink their tea in silence, no words needing to be exchanged. With so many chaotic days both behind and ahead of them, the ability to relax, just the two of them, is a rare occasion. It was a day just like any other, a completely ordinary day, nothing special to speak of—but in a way, it was his most precious treasure.

He feels an arm slip through his own; all at once he feels the practices swordsmanship of the extraordinary king of knights. Her arms were delicate, in this defenseless state, almost fragile. Soft to the touch yet firm all the same. It was far from the first time he’d felt her skin on his own, but he still found her touch electrifying. A few moments after this she reclined on his shoulder, resting her head on the crook of his neck as if it were modelled specifically for her to rest there. Quietly, he takes another sip of tea. To think that girl he met all those years back, as striking and powerful as she looked, would end up like this…

“Artoria,” he calls, quietly, rousing her from her slumber. He rarely referred to her by her name, mostly out of habit.

“What is it, Shirou?”

Without hesitating or thinking, he tilts her chin up and plants a kiss on her lips. It’s a gesture that needs no words, an action that speaks for itself. A loud and powerful declaration of love. For the woman whom he once called his sword, the friend, the king, now, too, the lover. For everything he can’t say aloud, he plants his message directly on her lips. Silently, she wraps her arms around him, then rests her chin on his shoulder.

“I love you too, Shirou.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in ages, it's really been over a year since I wrote something for myself, even longer for something that I was pleased with. I'm very happy with how this turned out!


End file.
